


Fall

by Nillas NSFW Corner (Agraulis_vanillae)



Series: The Fallen Series [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reborntale, Angel Alphys, Angel Papyrus - Freeform, Angel Toriel, Angel Undyne, Demon W.D. Gaster, Eventual Smut, Fallen Angel Asgore, Heaven vs Hell, Human Grillby, M/M, Slayers, Symbolism, demon sans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-02 20:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8682988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agraulis_vanillae/pseuds/Nillas%20NSFW%20Corner
Summary: "... either he falls, or he......f a l l s."





	1. Looking for Someone Heavenly

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who want to read Reborntale but aren't comfortable with explicit settings, I'll be releasing a SFW edition once I am done updating. Meanwhile, things don't get graphic until Chapter 3, so you can still read this section.  
> I had editing help from PancakePants and Azufrosting. They're super nice people, go check them out! X3  
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azufrosting  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/Pancakepants

The way he saw it, faith was ultimately Stockholm syndrome. The angels above were always constantly praising their God- and shunning demons. Despite the way they were tested repeatedly and punished disproportionately for their faults, they accepted impossible standards and in turn, espoused these standards onto 'lesser' beings. In the face of this apparent unfairness, getting the cold shoulder from those beings was all right by Sans. That suited him in fact, it meant that he could languish in his select corners of the universe.

 

After all, as a greater demon of Sloth, he loved doing nothing.

 

That being said, there were occasions where even he was forced to action. Most of those times occurred when the presence of an angel or slayer threatened his favorite haunt, Grillby's. Grillby was a regular human, and the perfect bartender for humans and demons alike, no judgments and no interference. He simply listened, a trait that Sans valued dearly. So when an angel walks into the bar, well, the first thing's to crack a joke of course.

 

The second course of action is to watch.

 

The angel matched all the stereotypes, every last one that Sans could think of. Tall, almost impossibly so, with white armor, an easygoing and an almost sweet, broad smile. His scarf fluttered a little as he stepped in from the freezing rain outside to step in and shake the drops off. The water never stuck or soaked into his clothes, even for a second.

 

If he wasn't so laid back, he could almost resent the way this angel was impervious to the elements.

 

“HOWDY! I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU HAVE A GLASS OF WARM MILK?”

 

Oh, right. Like most angels, he had a way of announcing his presence, but this one especially so. He advertised his blessedness with all of the subtlety of a heavy bass drop. It wasn't that he was loud in the traditional sense, but his voice boomed with a particular resonance that made other demons in the bar grit their teeth or flex their shoulders where their wings were hidden, in a rare display of unspoken unease.

 

Right, time for that joke.

 

“hey grillby,” he winks to him, “an angel walks into a bar looking for someone heavenly.” Strained chuckles here and there came from the guys that really liked Sans, but otherwise the patrons remained silent.

 

“...”

 

As usual, Grillby said nothing. A brief look of concern did flash across his face but it was gone as soon as it appeared, like the flicker of light in a fire.

 

“OH, I DIDN'T KNOW THERE WERE OTHER ANGELS HERE!” the angel sat down on one of the bar stools. “I WAS MERELY HOPING TO FIND SOMEPLACE TO WEATHER OUT THE STORM.”

 

“hail satan,” Sans dropped, for the express purpose of making him uncomfortable while setting up a joke to defuse the others. It worked, but rather than a look of disgust, the angel twisted his face up in confusion. Ah, he's an oblivious one. That explains how he found himself in this particular bar, in any case.

 

“HUH? WHY?”

 

“rain satan,” Sans continued.

 

“WHAT?” More confusion from the angel. Sans grinned, already having a little more fun than he should from the lame joke.

 

“Snow Satan?” One of the dog demons said, as he picked up on the game rather quickly. But then again, maybe Sans had reused his jokes one too many times. Too lazy to think of new ones after all.

 

“you've heard, right? tomorrow is a 90% chance of precipisatan.” Sans informed the increasingly frustrated angel.

 

“OH MY STARS, NO! WHY ARE YOU PUNNING?! THAT'S THE LOWEST FORM OF HUMOR!” The angel scolded, stomping his foot and wagging a finger in front of Sans's face. It was interesting to note that the angel was more offended at Sans's lazy brand of humor than the actual mention of the demonic overlord. He shrugged carelessly.

 

“well if you stay too long, it'll be foggy in the morning, lots of condensatan.”

 

“ARGH!!!” The angel shrieked. The patrons were already starting to settle down, with no more angels appearing and with this angel unlikely to start something. “DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING ELSE TO SAY BESIDES GOD AWFUL PUNS?!”

 

Sans laughed out loud. “i thought i told one hell of a good joke, myself.”

 

“Please!” A different dog demon barked, this one an honest-to-god bitch of wrath and mate to the first demon to speak up since the angel's arrival. “The next thing you're about to say, and Dogamy back me up here-” she grabs her martini glass to offer to her partner, “Can I tempt you?”

 

In a falsetto that was just barely within the same pitch to qualify as a parody of the angel's voice, Dogamy responds on cue- “No thanks, I'm good!”

 

Sans shoots a wounded look at Grillby. “aw c'mon, i'm not that bad am i, grillbs?”

 

For once, he could see a stifled chuckle surfacing despite the bartender's best efforts, “... They have you nailed to a 't', Sans.”

 

The bar barked delightedly at the rare and unexpected crucifixion joke at Sans's expense. He could see the angel's face blank out in confusion again.

 

“I... DON'T GET IT?”

 

“well, best i break it to ya before something gets started. you just walked into a bar full of demons.” Sans told him matter-of-factly.

 

“OH. OH!!! I'M SO SORRY, I DIDN'T MEAN TO INTRUDE! DRAT, WHY WASN'T I- OH...”

 

Papyrus started patting himself down, trying to look for something. When he lifted his scarf to check, Sans noticed something unusual. Most angels carried some sort of token of their divinity, the higher orders often being heavily tattooed in scripture. The angel's neckbones were a smooth milky white, as unblemished as the hot milk that Grillby placed in front of him, suggesting that there were no hidden marks.

 

That meant that he was in the lower ranks of angels, but that did not mean that he didn't have a token. For the lower ranks such as Rulers, Archangels, and regular Angels, the most common marks were blessed amulets or enchanted gemstones. Missing such a symbol meant that the angel was left vulnerable of God's protection. Sans subtly glanced out from the corners of his eyes to see if anyone else noticed what he had. There was no shifty behavior, or undue interest, but that didn't mean much in place like this.

 

They all knew the game. It was a matter of time before someone made a move.

 

“EXCUSE ME, I'VE REALLY MUST BE GOING. IT WAS NICE MEETING..?” Papyrus held out a gloved hand between Sans and Grillby, a nervous invitation for someone to introduce themselves.

 

Grillby stared impassively. Papyrus's smile began waning before Sans finally shook it.

 

“sans. sans the demon. you're an angel, right?” Sans's smile curled further up into a smirk.

 

“that's hilarious.”

 

“WELL SANS, I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” He puffed out his chest and his scarf fluttered without a breeze. Sans suspected the angel might've supplied the magic to fuel the effect himself. Sans wasn't lying before- this whole encounter's been pretty funny. “AND AS MUCH AS I'D LIKE TO HANG AROUND, I REALLY NEED TO LEAVE.”

 

Papyrus the angel turned to leave, and Sans turned back to his drink. It wouldn't be long now, before the angel was picked off--

 

Oh.

 

Oh hell no.

 

Sans eye sockets went dark. He sensed an entirely unwelcome presence approaching long before he heard them. Slayers, after all, were even less subtle than angels if that could be believed. And this particular magic... well, he could recognize that scent anywhere.

 

They _knew_ better than to hunt in his territory.

 

He stepped out into the shadows through a shortcut,and stared irritably at the scene unraveling. To the angel's credit, he was not backing down although fleeing wouldn't have been an unreasonable response to the DETERMINATION rolling off the twins in waves. Sans wasn't the type to pick a fight himself, but Chara and Frisk were encroaching on his territory and if there was any hunting happening there, it was going to only be with his blessing.

 

“O-OH, HUMANS! ARE YOU IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE?” The angel called, as if he wasn't capable of reading the amount of LOVE between the two figures in the matching striped shirts. The one in green and yellow, Chara, made their thoughts very clear by the way their ruby eyes fixed on him in a mad-dog leer.

 

Of the two, Sans had learned that Chara relished a good fight, a fact that he nearly underestimated by assuming that their aggression was a charade to throw people off. He wasn't entirely wrong, but his mistake nearly got him dusted when he turned his attention to what he considered was the true threat, Frisk. Frisk had the highest amounts of LOVE between the two, but they were the more passive, a silent slayer that preferred to wait for Chara to distract enemies before ambushing them.

 

“What would you like your tombstone to say?” Chara taunted, advancing.

 

“HOW DO YOU MEAN, HUMAN?” The angel moved as Chara did, stepping cautiously to the side so that the two began to circle each other.

 

Frisk stopped Chara as they circled back, reaching for their hand and pulling them back to their side. Quiet, deceptively sweet in a breathy murmur, they spoke, “Right now, you're in demon territory. It won't be long until one attacks you, and vanquishes your soul to hell. We are the closest thing you have to salvation.”

 

A pause in speech. It was probably the most Sans had ever heard Frisk speak at one time, an interesting tidbit to file away later when their counterpart wasn't stepping in again, the two holding hands in a united approach.

 

“We're granting you MERCY.” Chara explained, eliciting a silent sneer from Sans. Slowly and deliberately clapping, Sans stepped out from the shadows and startled all members in the confrontation. He had his wings spread, a bone matrix held together by an unseen membrane that shimmered cyan only in the moonlight. His tail and draconian horns were both visible, and his eye sockets glowed an erratic hazy gold like a candle lit deep inside his skull, giving the slayers a good look at the power that they'd crossed.

 

“that's a funny joke, if i've ever heard one, and buddy i've heard them all.” Sans allowed himself a dry chuckle. “i'm sure that the holy talismans that you collect at the end of your angelic kills have nothing to do with it. but hey, what do i know?”

 

“i ' m   j u s t   t h e   f u n n y   g u y   w h o   l e t s   k i d s   l i k e   y o u   l i v e   f o r   f a r   t o o   l o n g.”

 

His eyes went dark and barren with the ominous silence accompanying his message being relayed directly to their minds. Frisk pushed Chara aside in a single instant before bones disrupted the ground beneath them and started the battle.

 

“Listen, angel! If you wish to save your soul, you must say so now! We can't possibly fight both of you at the same time, and you're not getting out of this situation against a greater demon unscathed!” Chara called out, crouched low to the ground and leaping out of the way of the blaster's energy beams that Sans was shooting off. Frisk was leaping out of the way of bones shooting out of the ground and stepping aside of the disrupted earth from the origin of the attacks. The place was a carefully maintained boneyard, though unseen, there were millions of bones of the dead that laid at the foundation of Sans's territory.

 

The angel looked at the scene with worry, as Sans dodged Chara's blade, allowing the slayer to come in close range before firing off another blast that singed the edge of their sweater. Frisk was unable to get in any closer, kept occupied by the complex series of dodges they needed to perform to prevent their HP from falling to 0. At this point Sans was just waiting for Chara to throw themselves into the maw of a Blaster and end it.

 

“N-NO THANK YOU,” the angel called back hurriedly, clearly uncomfortable and uncertain who to address. “I WOULD RATHER NOT EXPERIENCE YOUR UNIQUE BRAND OF... MERCY. B-BUT THANK YOU ANYWAYS?!”

 

The two slayers rolled close to each other and with a nod from Frisk, retreated with almost supernatural agility, dodging the bones and blasters until they were out of range. Sans gritted his teeth in frustration. If he’d tried a little harder, they'd probably be dead by now. As it was, he kept forgetting that he didn't simply 'let' them live so much as their DT allowed them to evade his attacks with a foresight that was downright spooky.

 

He turned, almost running headlong into the angel. He briefly recalled the name “Papyrus” to address this odd loose end that he wasn't feeling up to dusting after expelling too much energy on those slayer brats. He was already somewhat surprised that the angel was still there, defying all survival instincts just to stick around and to see what happened. For a second, it was an angel and a demon staring each other down, but then Papyrus stepped forward and Sans was enveloped in the warmth of his embrace. His arms wrapped loosely across his shoulders, pressing him forward into his scarf as softly feathered wings cocooned him for a brief second.

 

He briefly smelled the smell of what might've been ozone mixed with the sunlight before he was released from the angel's hold.

 

“what was that for?” he asked, a little more gruffly than he'd intended.

 

“NYEH HEH HEH, NOTHING MUCH. JUST THANK YOU FOR LOOKING OUT FOR ME, EVEN THOUGH I AM AN ANGEL!” Papyrus smiled broadly, and once again Sans was left dumbstruck by the sheer naivete of the angel. He dug through his skull for something to say, only to find that he was genuinely speechless. The silence lasted for a few moments, with him just staring at him until the angel squirmed. “W-WELL, IN ANY CASE, IT SEEMS THAT DEMONS AREN'T NEARLY AS BAD AS THE BOOKS MAKE THEM OUT TO BE! THERE MIGHT BE SOME HOPE FOR REDEMPTION YET, NYEH HEH HEH!!!.. HEH?”

 

With that last uncertain laugh at Sans's silence, Papyrus spread his wings and took flight, kicking a few steps backwards before letting his wings push him forward. Sans watched him go, vaguely wondering if it was possible for a demon to be too lazy to do their job.


	2. Liquid Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read the writing on the wall, as history repeats itself with spiraling tenacity.

It was only a night later, when he felt a celestial presence crossing his territory again. This time, he had no idea for what reason Papyrus would be crossing the threshold of his domain, but he took his shortcut to confront him outside.

 

“listen buddy, I know it seems from yesterday like i'm a nice guy but-” 

 

The angel was just at the boundary of his territory, wings tucked discretely and eyes cast demurely downward. Wait- not a show of deference- something was on the ground before him, the intrusion tinkling in the dark space of his awareness.

 

“O-OH THAT WAS QUICK! ARCHANGEL UNDYNE MENTIONED- WELL, THAT DOESN'T MATTER NOW. SANS THE GREATER DEMON OF BELPHEGOR...” he stopped speaking for a moment as he looked up in brief surprise, sweat coating his face for a brief second as nerves got the best of him. “PHEW, THIS IS HARDER THAN I THOUGHT...”

 

He composed himself once more, the sweat disappearing as he looked Sans in the eye with a bright smile, “I, PAPYRUS THE GREAT ANGEL OF THE SERAPHIM TORIEL, WOULD LIKE TO PRESENT MY THANKS.”

 

Sans stepped forward, too curious about the glimmering object that'd been sending waves to his consciousness since he’d felt Papyrus's approach. “this..?”

 

It was a single piece of smoky quartz, fashioned into a teardrop, tempering the light that passed through, muting the stark brightness of the streetlights in the area. The meanings associated with it passed through his mind quickly, protection, and soothing negativity to a positive resonance. That was hardly the most important part of it though, as Sans could still feel the holy power of it pulsing in his palm. If he was a lesser demon, he might've thought it would begin burning him at any moment. “where did this come from?”

 

Papyrus's smile abated a little, not falling but becoming less extreme now that Sans possessed the teardrop stone. He pulled at his scarf, partially unraveling it so that Sans could see the glittering necklace hanging across his neck. “PLEASE KEEP IT TO YOURSELF, BUT YOU SEE, I'D FORGOTTEN MY BLESSED AMULET LAST NIGHT! SO I REALLY MIGHT'VE REALLY BEEN IN TROUBLE IF YOU HADN'T STEPPED IN! SO I THOUGHT PERHAPS YOU COULD USE A PIECE FROM THIS?”

 

His amulet contained a light yellow citrine and a clear grey smoky quartz, the two stones muted by the rainbow moonstone fashioned into a glowing white crystal hanging past the teardrops and dog bone-styled beads. It was not immediately noticeable, but Sans observed that one side of the necklace was missing the same grey teardrop he now held in his hand.

 

“what's it called?” he asked, watching the angel wind his scarf around his neck so that the elaborate token disappeared. There was something about the choice in stones that bothered him.

 

“IT IS KNOWN AS LIQUID SUNSHINE.”

 

“... heh.” Sans pocketed the stone, suddenly acutely aware of the slight wind and the trees rustling around him. The spot they were in was too open for a conversation like this, and their voices were carrying in the silence. “well, I guess you can say-”

 

“WHAT, NO-”

 

“this has really been a 'blessed' meeting!” he finished, chuckling as Papyrus turned and shrieked bloody hell to the heavens. “jokes aside, it's best you head back now. you're pretty lucky as it is that i'm so lazy, otherwise i might actually do my job.”

 

“YOU WOULDN'T DO IT ANYWAYS,” Papyrus said confidently, causing Sans to furrow his expression skeptically at him. “YOU'RE A GOOD PERSON.”

 

“heh,” Sans responded facetiously, “it's hard to argue with logic like that.”

 

He turned to walk away, avoiding eye contact and vehemently denying to himself that he was just the slightest bit charmed. He debated with himself for a few moments, and then shrugged. “you don't have to toe the line like those brats from yesterday. just don't stir up trouble, i'm not gonna be around to bail you out of it every time.”

 

“W-WOWIE, REALLY?” the angel said ecstatically. “I'M SO GLAD! I'VE NEVER BEEN FRIENDS WITH A DEMON BEFORE... OH, BUT I AM BUSY TONIGHT. SO I'LL COME TOMORROW THEN!”

 

Sans heard his footsteps before he felt his arms wrap around him again. He heard-

 

“THAT'S A PROMISE, OKAY?”

 

-before the angel was gone. He took his shortcut back into the bar to brood over the drink Grillby had poured for him in his absence. Fingering the smoky quartz teardrop in his pocket, he couldn't get past the name “Liquid Sunshine.” Regardless of the pendant having a name, it wasn't a well known name, and the gemstones used were easy to find. However, layered on the common meanings of positive energy, protection, joy, and generosity was the big picture, the connotations of the phrase ‘liquid sunshine’, which he'd heard once or twice to describe rain that fell on a sunny day. Given Heaven's tendency to layer different meanings in their omens, their signs and their names, it nagged at him the same way that the piece of the pendant did from his pocket.

 

… Maybe he was overthinking it.

 

~

 

“Liquid Sunshine, you say?” Asgore frowned over his cup of tea. Sans had gone to visit his old mentor, W.D. Gaster, though his true intentions was to ask Gaster’s lover a few questions. As proud as the older skeletal demon was, Sans was bound to annoy him if he only dropped in to pump information from Asgore. He could let him know what was going on, and let Gaster do some of the lore digging, which was exactly what he'd turned to do as soon as Sans brought it up.

 

Asgore on the other hand, was a fallen seraphim. He'd apparently fallen long before Sans could properly spread his wings and was well versed in Heaven's double meanings and hidden pitfalls. To Gaster's credit, he was the one that Asgore had cast away his heavenly status for, and had taken him in since then. They were as long lasting a couple as one ever sees in hell. Sans held suspicions that underneath all of that arrogance that Gaster puts on, he felt responsible for bringing Asgore down to this place.

 

“yeah, a mix of citrine, smoky quartz and moonstone. the smoky quartz looks something like this.” Asgore shot him a sharp look as Sans pulled out Papyrus's gift. “no worries- i didn't steal it.”

 

“You should keep that hidden whenever possible. Someone might take that as a challenge and try to take it,” Asgore warned. “Or they’ll try to take the angel, regardless of whether or not they're on your territory.”

 

“only if they want to have a bad time,” Sans hummed for a second, allowing the ex-angel time to drink tea for a second. “So, Liquid Sunshine...”

 

“It's not unreasonable to be concerned, if that's what it is. If it was just smoky quartz and citrine, then that would be one thing. However, the blessed rainbow moonstone... that's the pendant, correct? Such strong ties to lunar influences...” Asgore didn't get a chance to finish, as Gaster triumphantly slammed a heavy looking tome onto the table between the two. Much to Sans's amusement and Asgore's exasperation, it appeared that he'd gone digging through Asgore's library after all, refusing to be left out of the discussion for long.

 

“...Which suggests that it is bound to rain in Papyrus's life, metaphorically speaking, despite the light he has brought to the heavenly kingdom.” Gaster finished.

 

“Do be careful with my books,” he scolded lightly. “Those are older than your former apprentice here.”

 

Gaster waved dismissively. “Irrelevant. Sans, you know what happens to those that deviate from Heaven's ordinances. You must nip this in the bud, or take responsibility for what happens next.”

 

Sans was startled into nearly spitting the tea out, managing to save it at a reproachful look from Asgore but choking in the process. He weakly coughed, “geez 'dings, you talk like we're already dating or something. we just met a couple of nights ago.”

 

“Give it time.” Gaster murmured with a nod to Sans's pocket, where he'd kept flipping the smooth pendant between his phalanges. With a dull flush, he let go of it like he'd been caught touching himself and placed both hands in sight.

 

“that's enough about me. how's your research been?”

 

~

 

“You went back there?! WHEN?!!!” Undyne demanded. Papyrus sweated, hands up sheepishly.

 

“J-JUST LAST NIGHT? WHEN EVERYONE WAS ASLEEP AND-”

 

Undyne shoved a hand over his mouth and waved cheerfully at Lesser Dog passing by, a wide strained smile plastered over her face, before dragging him into her place with a severe reproachful stare. “Ngahhh! Pap, what were you THINKING?”

 

“I-if I m-may... Undyne?” A small voice squeaked from behind the two, the little yellow dinosaur raising her hand as if she was at class rather than hanging out normally with them. “B-before you get mad, t-this isn't all t-that unusual.”

 

“No, I'm not mad bu-” the archangel gawked at her as if she’d sprouted a second head. “WHAT?!”

 

Alphys winced, and looked like she might not be able to respond through her stutter, but when Undyne apologetically stroked her head to soothe down the stress of being the center of attention, she said: “The surveillance c-cameras pick up lots of angels interacting with d-d-demons, and regularly t-too! P-papyrus wouldn't b-be the first! B-but it's k-kinda d-dangerous... 'cuz... even seraphims...”

 

She trailed off, her hands wringing worriedly before she could regain her composure. Even as the highest ranked angel in the room as an Authority, Alphys's job didn't come without its stresses and her disposition was ill-suited for intrigue as it was. As things were though, she was the only angel even in that rank who could manage so supervising so many angels at once. She likely knew about Papyrus's visit before he'd come clean to Undyne.

 

“Listen, Undyne... P-Papyrus... you remember Asgore, right?”

 

“Of course...” Undyne murmured, her face falling and her internal light daring to dim for a moment. Papyrus nodded, taken aback.

 

“I REMEMBER HIS EX-HOLINESS, BUT WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?”

 

“He... he fell... but not just for any reason. He'd f-fallen for a greater demon.” Alphys whispered, almost to the point where she couldn't be heard. “Seraphim Toriel had no other choice than to take his wings.”

 

Papyrus turned pale, as Undyne cringed with her lip drawn up in a silent snarl, fists bunching up. The archangel was used to being able to subdue unpleasantness into oblivion, but for her own mind where they could recall the incident. The trial didn't turn out pretty, and she nearly seized her trainee as if he was under Toriel's blade that very second.

 

“B-b-but that only happens for serious transgressions!” Alphys struggled to reassure them. “I just wanted you to know that it's okay for you to interact with demons, after all we'd b-be short an army if we j-just p-p-picked fights all the time! You can e-even b-be friends! J-just d-don't get attached, and d-don't neglect your d-duties!”

 

“I don't know Alphys...” Undyne responded quietly. “I've already lost one friend.”

 

“W-WELL I CAN JUST BE FRIENDS! YEAH, IT'S NOT LIKE THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS EVER BEEN ON A DATE BEFORE! NYEH HEH HEH!” Papyrus cheered up almost instantaneously, despite Undyne's misgivings.

 

The two girls felt themselves exchange amused yet dubious looks. That certainly wasn't something to brag about, per say. Undyne demanded, “Just tell me he isn't a lust demon!”

 

“NO, SANS IS A DEMON OF SLOTH! HE'D BE TOO LAZY TO CONDUCT AN ELABORATE SEDUCTION IN THE STYLE OF A LUST DEMON! NYEH HEH HEH!” Papyrus explained, laughing, and the two headed outside so as to begin training with the conclusion of that particular conversation.

 

Even while admiring the way Undyne's muscles rippled smoothly in the celestial light and the enthusiasm with which she'd suplexed an admiring putti, Alphys wondered if it was for the best to mention to them that the demon that Asgore had fallen for wasn't a lust demon either, or let them continue training in a decent mood. Recalling Undyne's stress over the mention of their fallen friend, she decided it wasn't worth it.

 

Much later, Papyrus was called to face the Dominion in charge of guardian assignments. It wasn't a long meeting, only a few minutes for a folder to be passed to him from the neatly organized stack on the Dominion's desk, but he stopped short as to seeing who he was to protect.

 

“Guardian Papyrus, is there something wrong?” they addressed him tersely, somewhat irritated that he hadn't gotten out to the office yet.

 

“N-NO SIR, I'M SORRY I'LL BE OUT OF YOUR WAY!” Papyrus stepped out, closing the door softly before frowning with worry. Perhaps his next meeting with Sans wouldn't be as pleasant as he thought...

 

~

 

Sans had almost expected him to never show up again, if it weren't for the stone in his pocket. He wasn't sure where this feeling of certainty came from at first, but as it grew so did his suspicions that the stone itself was broadcasting some of the angel's intentions. It didn't make sense why it would be doing that, when Asgore had very clearly said that those talismans were sources of protection, doubling as a preventative measure as well as working actively.

 

The feeling of certainty grew to the point where Sans knew when Papyrus stepped down onto his territory and the exact moment his gloved hand would open the door to Grillby's. He hardly shifted an inch before the angel's presence drew near. It was strange to be so hyper aware of any one person, but there it was. There he was, invisible wings settling and shifting the air around them as he sat on the barstool next to him.

 

“GOOD EVENING, SANS.”

 

“'sup, Papyrus.”

 

He fell silent, practically tasting the tension rolling off the angel in waves. Papyrus ordered a glass of warm milk, sending Grillby off to fill the order. “SO...”

 

“so.” Sans echoed.

 

“I GOT AN ASSIGNMENT, WHICH IS GOOD BECAUSE THEY'RE TRUSTING ME WITH MORE NOW! B-BUT... BUT...” Papyrus halted in distress, if his wings were visible than Sans would've almost certainly see them flutter outwards and fold back in unease. “BUT... IT MAY LEAD US INTO A FIGHT SOME DAY.”

 

Sans snorted, almost relieved. “well, that's tibia expected.”

 

Papyrus didn't look amused. “SOME DAY SOON, I MEAN. TELL ME SANS, IF THE SLAYERS CHARA AND FRISK SET FOOT IN YOUR TERRITORY AGAIN... WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO TO THEM... SANS?

 

Sans had stilled completely. The significance of Papyrus's appointment wasn't lost on him, given the insight that Asgore and Gaster gave him earlier. Was this was Gaster meant? He'd assumed that there'd only be conflict if he'd try to tempt Papyrus, but was this God of theirs going to push them into a deadly brawl like a child pitting a couple of spiders, the unfortunate creatures both desperately scrambling for cover and safety?

 

“... SANS?” The angel asked again, softly. His gaze snapped to Papyrus's worried gaze. He forced his tight smile that had been threatening to break out in a snarl of distaste into a more relaxed expression. He could feel the corners of his grin twitching regardless, and turned his gaze away. What could he say?

 

“heh, well we might as well get married at this rate.” Okay definitely not that. “i mean, if we're going to run into each other again.”

 

Even upon clarifying, the two fell into an awkward silence. All bad joking aside, Sans knew that there was nowhere for this scenario to play out but death for one or both of them. Not only would Papyrus have to survive Sans which may not be as difficult given that he was sinless and he would not take much damage from Sans's attacks, but Chara and Frisk may not take a guardian angel as anything other than free EXP and a valuable holy artifact to cash in. It was a test by God, weighed heavily against Papyrus's favor. Sans wondered if Papyrus knew that as well.

 

“THERE HAS TO BE A BETTER WAY.” Papyrus said firmly. “I'LL HAVE TO GO TO THE TWINS TOMORROW NIGHT BEFORE THEY GO OUT, PERHAPS I CAN CONVINCE THEM TO ABANDON THEIR RECKLESS WAYS. THEN WE WON'T HAVE TO FIGHT!”

 

Sans wished he could match Papyrus's optimism. As it was, he remained silent a beat too long, Papyrus continued talking as if it might save their lives to plan it out right there. “AFTER ALL, IT'S NOT LIKE THEY ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO BE SLAYERS, AND REALLY THEY CAN'T BE BAD PEOPLE ESPECIALLY WITH SOMEONE AS COOL AS I AM TO PROTECT THEM! THEN... THEN... THERE'D BE NO BETRAYAL IN SIGHT... BEING FRIENDS WITH EVERYONE WILL BE EASY... WON'T IT?”

 

His voice wavered, and Sans immediately felt shitty for being too quiet, allowing his natural pessimism and depressive nature to take hold.

 

“yeah, i'm sure it is, paps.” he managed, naturally shortening the angel's name a couple of syllables so to complement his lackluster energy in that moment.

 

Papyrus gasped, both hands flying to his cheeks, “W-WOWIE!!! WE REALLY MUST BE FRIENDS IF YOU'VE ALREADY GIVEN ME A NICKNAME! THAT'S IT THEN, I REALLY MUST RESOLVE THIS RIGHT AWAY!”

 

He hugged Sans tightly much to his embarrassment and the collective amusement of the other patrons in the bar. Grillby had mysteriously arrived in time to hand Papyrus his glass of warm milk, the angel excitedly bounding out of the door. “I CAN'T WAIT TO TELL UNDYNE I'VE HIT THE FRIEND ZONE!!!”

 

“... I don't think that means what he thinks it means.” Grillby observed. “Sans?”

 

“just put it on my tab.” Sans waved dismissively, shooting a particularly intense glare at the sniggering lust demons in the corner. “yeah yeah, keep laughing ya hacks.”

 

“... What are you going to do?” The bartender insisted. Sans looked to him again and sighed, placing his head on the bar.

 

“et tu, grillby?” Sans groaned, wishing that his closest confidants would stop asking him that. The bartender hummed, but otherwise didn't respond, simply staring intently. “i don't know. at this point, either he falls, or he...”

 

“... f a l l s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is the last, to be updated next monday! I hope you guys are enjoying yourselves, and I think you ought to see some excellent work my friend Inayuri made for the story! Have Papyrus with the softest dang feathers ever! X3 She originally had done a sketch for her 250+ follower giveaway and then was so kind to give it more love!  
> http://inayuri.tumblr.com/post/153993709036/mweh-coloration-done-d-the-here-is-the-sketch  
> And speaking of tumblrs, I keep forgetting to promote mine. ^_^' OOPS!  
> https://agraulisvanillae.tumblr.com/


	3. Vindicta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell hath no fury like Heaven scorned.

Papyrus fluttered down to the rooftop. Chara and Frisk weren't in sight for a few moments, but then a flash of color as they'd scurried out, clearly fixated on skulking through the nearby graveyard for easier supernatural targets. All well and good, neither angels nor demons staked territory in a graveyard, so Papyrus was content to stay back until absolutely needed.

 

They'd managed to provoke a couple of vampires into a fight, newborns with a fierce thirst but little fighting ability. It looked like it would be a simple fight for both twins, until Frisk had somehow gotten pinned down by a particularly voracious newborn which was when Papyrus made himself known with his internal heavenly light illuminating the area.

 

“UNCLEAN CORPSE, I CAST THIS PURIFYING LIGHT UPON YOU IN HOPES THAT YOU WILL FIND PEACE IN DEATH THAT YOU COULD NOT FIND IN LIFE! BE GONE, AND CEASE YOUR HAVOC UPON THE LIVING.” Papyrus ordered authoritatively, proud that he didn't even stutter once through the incantation. The vampire shrieked and melted away in a grotesque cascade of flesh turning to dust, skull rolling away with a clatter against one of the flat marble slabs of tombstone. He then invoked a short prayer “WE THEREFORE COMMIT THEIR BODY TO THE GROUND, EARTH TO EARTH, ASHES TO ASHES, DUST TO DUST LOOKING FOR THE BLESSED HOPE...”

 

Papyrus realized he couldn't see where Chara had gone, just as he felt their knife's blade biting past his wing, and vaulted forward just before it could do much more than draw marrow from his cervical vertebrae.

 

“You were right Frisk, there was someone following us! Angel, do you have a death wish?” Chara asked cheerfully, their ruby eyes fixed on him with a wide smile.

 

“IT APPEARS I MUST EXPLAIN, I THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAVE BEEN ASSIGNED TO YOU AS YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL! I AM HERE TO INFORM YOU OF MY PROTECTION AS WELL AS A PERSONAL REQUEST.”

 

Frisk waved their hand to continue, but just as Chara stepped forward. Papyrus cleared his throat nervously, feeling a warmth seeping into his scarf, sticking and cooling to the back of his neck. “WELL, YOU SEE, I'VE MADE FRIENDS WITH THE GREATER DEMON SANS, AND WHEREAS I WILL STEP IN ON YOUR BEHALF TO PROTECT YOU FROM IMMINENT DEMISE I WOULD RATHER NOT HAVE TO FIGHT A DEAR FRIEND!”

 

“That would be a pity, wouldn't it?” Chara said musingly. “Pitting an angel and a demon against each other in a fight to the death.”

 

Earnestly, Papyrus protested, “PLEASE DON'T HUMAN! AT THE VERY LEAST, IF I WOULD PERISH IT WOULD MEAN THAT YOU WOULD NEVER BE ASSIGNED ANOTHER GUARDIAN ANGEL! YOU'LL BE LEFT UNPROTECTED, AND NOBODY WINS THAT WAY.”

 

A hand clutched his scarf and pulled him backwards, forcing him off balance and falling back with his skull hitting a gravestone monument. Dazed, he was still blinking away black spots as Frisk set a wooden stake to the exposed moonstone glimmering on his chest. When had they gotten behind him?

 

“FRISK DAMMIT, THIS ISN'T THE TIME FOR MERCY! WE HAVE AN IN, A WAY TO BEAT SANS!” Chara cursed, but Frisk's face looked resolute.

 

“Your soul is confused angel.” Frisk raised their stake. “This is the only way to SAVE you.”

 

Papyrus braced himself.

 

Ba-dum.

 

Ba-dum.

 

Ba-dum.

 

He slowly opened his eyes to see Frisk trembling with exertion, their stake still clutched tight with their knuckles whitening with the force of their grip, but their arm had fallen limply by their side. Their soul had turned blue, while Chara leered past them with tight irritation written across their flushed features.

 

“what? did you really think i'd stand aside and let him take it?” Sans's deep monotone voice drawled from above. Frisk and Papyrus looked up to see the demon sitting on the monument as if he'd been there all along. His eyes glowed with candle lit rage, his grin widened with all of his teeth showing, and the moonlit magic running through the membrane of his wings, poised with anticipation. With a flick of blue magic, Frisk was thrown across the graveyard and into their twin with identical grunts of protest.

 

Sans pulled Papyrus up, whose vision was still threatening to go black, marrow dripping from the back of his head and onto Sans's jacket. He winked at the twins groaning and scrambling dazedly to their feet, “i'll throw ya a bone or two later, brats.”

 

“'c u z   t h i s   i s n ' t   o v e r.”

 

His gleaming cyan wings spread as if to take flight, but melted into darkness instead, taking the angel with him.

 

“You and your MERCY,” Chara grumbled to Frisk.

 

~

 

“i've got ya paps, i've got ya, you're going to be okay.”

 

Sans could feel his bones stinging and burning in response to Papyrus's heavenly defenses, his blood caustic to demons such as himself. He pushed the gauze to the hairline cracks at the back of his skull firmly, placing tape at each side. He'd taken them straight into the heart of his territory, Grillby's now empty establishment, rather than his home in the Underworld. Any heavenly presence was bound to be noticed there, and then they'd really be in trouble.

 

“SANS, I TRIED TO EXPLAIN, BUT ALAS I FAILED...” Papyrus groaned. “THEY DIDN'T WANT TO LISTEN...”

 

Sans shook his head, “it's not your fault, they'd already made up their minds before you even helped them.”

 

“SANS, WE'RE GOING TO BE FORCED TO FIGHT.” Papyrus murmured, wincing as Sans peeled off his scarf and set it aside to work on the knife cut sliced across his vertebrae.

 

“i know.”

 

“I DON'T WANT TO FIGHT YOU.”

 

“i know,” Sans sighed, finishing his administrations and wiping his palms on his shorts, shaking his hands briefly with a low hiss at the stinging. “those brats aren't going to give us any choice.”

 

“SANS, WE ALWAYS HAVE A CHOICE.” Papyrus sighed. He reached for Sans's hand, and examined the burns, “I'M SORRY YOU GOT HURT HELPING ME.”

 

Sans was about to reply, only stopped by Papyrus's tongue flicking out and running through his phalanges, slowly cleaning off his own blood from Sans's fingers. Sans inhaled sharply through his nasal aperture. “papyrus... do you know what you're doing?”

 

“I'M MAKING MY CHOICE.”

 

He began sucking his blood off completely, thoroughly replacing the intensity of the stinging from the burns to a dull throb, not unlike the way his head pulsed at the internal conflict he had before him. Papyrus seemed to sense his hesitation, and stopped suckling for a moment. Sans shakily removed his hands from Papyrus's, and placed them on his shoulders.

 

“are you sure this is what you want papyrus? there's no going back. divinity, your friends, the people you're guarding... all of that will be lost, or taken from you.”

 

Papyrus turned and answered him with a kiss, short and sweet, but his hands were fisted firmly into Sans's jacket and brokered no disagreement. Sans tasted the kiss, swiping a tongue to his teeth thoughtfully and feeling a vague burning where Papyrus's blood transferred from his own mouth. He could feel sin crawling across Papyrus's bones, beckoning.

 

He moved in to kiss Papyrus again, hungrily. Licking across Papyrus's teeth and deepening the kiss, unexpectedly relishing the iron and pain lacing through the soft slick pleasure of his mouth and muffling Papyrus's soft mewl of uncertainty. His instincts sharpened, like a low roar keening to a high fervent pitch, his mind spiraling into a haze of immorality. For the first time in his life, he was acting to the call of an entirely different sin than Sloth.

 

They separated, Papyrus already flushing hard and panting heavily as Sans hefted him on the counter. Papyrus's wings wrapped forward around them obscuring them from being seen though no one was there. Sans chuckled, “are you shy?”

 

“WE'RE IN A PUBLIC SETTING, ANYONE COULD WALK IN AT ANY TIME.” Papyrus blushed hard and Sans grinned wickedly. With a show of astounding power, he gripped Papyrus's armor and ripped it into shreds to leave his ribs exposed with a startled squeak from the angel.

 

“H-HEY, STOP! WAS THAT REALLY NECESSARY?” he moved to hide himself only for Sans to push him flat into the counter, holding his arms above his head and moving between his legs.

 

“let them,” He challenged to their non-existent audience. His teeth gleamed as his smile widened with a feral growl, “then they'll know that you're mine.”

 

Papyrus whimpered in response to his own helplessness in the face of Sans's hunger, and muttered something Sans didn't quite pick up. He was rutting his hips slowly against Papyrus before his sin-drunk mind registered that he said something.

 

“what is it?” he asked, absently. His hands was traveling down, releasing Papyrus's hands to caress his ribs and spine.

 

“C-CAN WE K-KISS MORE?” Papyrus asked a little more loudly, bringing Sans back down a little to register the reality of the situation. Calling forth all sense of patience he had to bring his touch to a halt, he asked,

 

“what do you want, pap?”

 

“HM?” Papyrus stuttered “I-I-I... I DON'T KNOW..? JUST TO BE...”

 

His voice was back to a whisper, uncertainty stealing the force of his voice away.

 

“... JUST TO BE CHERISHED, I GUESS..?”

 

Sans planted a kiss near Papyrus's kneecap, bracing his leg steady against Papyrus's shaking. He told him softly, “i can do that.”

 

He kissed down Papyrus's leg, and then down the other, occasionally nipping on the way down and feeling him tremble. He was certain that such aimless affection couldn't have felt that good, but when he looked up to his face, Papyrus's eyes were fluttering shut and his blush deepened. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of his pants and pulled down to place kisses across the flared pelvic bones before slowly disrobing Papyrus. He could feel the angel's magic heavy in the air but undirected. Fixated, all he could do was feel the angel's magic thrumming in its purest form and move to shape it.

 

“W-WHAT ARE YOU..HNNNG... DOING?” Papyrus struggled to sit up only for his grip to slide across the counter when Sans gripped his pubis and stroked the magic into shape so that his legs twitched and locked across Sans's pelvis, holding him nearly flat against the counter. His gaze clouded over with his first experience of jolting deep pleasure. “OHHH...”

 

Seated in the angel's pelvis, a white upside down heart coalesced. Sans wasted no time shrugging down his pants and pressing his bare pelvis to Papyrus's, feeling his excitement form and prod the angel's soul at the crease.

 

“mm...” Sans hummed, stroking himself for a moment to just enjoy the sight of the angel all spread out, legs, wings and soul, just for him. The angel's soul was pulsating waves of enticing white hot heat, he could feel his dick twitch in response.

 

“papyrus, you should see yourself like this.”

 

“H-HUH?” Papyrus struggled to concentrate on his words and panted questioningly. “SEE MEEE~..? AH, HAHHH! HA- HNGH..!”

 

Sans pushed himself in, instinct calling for him to take, take, _take him now._ Papyrus gasped and writhed in response to the heated invasion into his core, seizing Sans's floating ribs underneath his shirt with a death grip that strained the endurance of the bone. Sans gently extracted his hands just long enough to guide them further up to his ribcage, and then pulled him down so that he was no longer on the counter but propped up against it and seated further onto his dick so that he could thrust deeply into Papyrus's soul.

 

“NYEE, P-PLEASE SANS, GENTLY!” Papyrus pleaded, head tilted forward and buried in his neck even as his grip tightened against his ribs. Sans could hardly catch his breath, against the intense pulsing of his soul against his dick, and he pushed further greedily. His magic manifested through his bones, his black soul materializing behind his ribs in response to his deflowering him and the corruption of an innocent soul.

 

“fuh, so... good, paps you're doing so fu-fucking good!” He grunted out hoarsely, pistoning his hips at a rising frantic pace that got Papyrus bouncing against him.

 

“I C-CAN'T HOLD ON SANS, I FEEL LIKE I'M G-G-GOING T-TO EXPL- UH, HAH, -XPLODE..!” Papyrus sobbed, barely seeing Sans's soul resounding as much as he felt it, and reached between his ribs with one hand.

 

“c'mon papyrus... cum, cum for me. you can do it, just give in...” Sans growled, biting his clavicle as he pumped and then with a sloppy jerk of Papyrus's hips meeting his, legs tightening across his hips and driving him in as far as he'll go. Sans gasped with the sudden feeling of Papyrus holding his black soul, before he pressed a wet tearful kiss to the culmination of his own being, a drawn out cry signaling his release. The connection between their two souls coursed lust like electricity racing through a looping circuit, one feeding into the other with a rising intensity.

 

Papyrus's soul flared with a wet hot release, magic dripping down his hips and femurs, the sight and sensation setting him over the edge. Sans's hips stuttered, and he shot ropes of cum into Papyrus's slick pulsing soul that was absorbed moments later. He extracted himself, breathing heavily, watching with intense satisfaction as Papyrus slid down almost bonelessly with Sans's soul held loosely to his chest. His armor was in tatters, his clavicle scored with deep grooves from Sans's teeth, his white soul was leaking release from the force with which the angel had come, and his eyes were heavy lidded with a blissful dazed expression.

 

Leaning on the counter next to him, Sans basked in the afterglow of their deed. He had the presence of mind to pick the angel up and bring them somewhere more comfortable, one of the booths of Grillby's. Papyrus gently placed his soul back into his ribcage with a reverence that made Sans flush and glance away in embarrassment. He carefully balanced him on top of his chest as he settled down into one of the booths. He'll have to make it up to him later, but Sloth wouldn't be his cardinal sin if he cleaned right away, now would it? With that one last mischievous thought, he grinned to himself, tightened his grip across Papyrus's shoulders briefly and dropped to sleep.

 

~

 

In the early hours of the morning, he nearly woke up long enough to feel Papyrus carefully get up, but remained solidly asleep much longer. Eventually, with an uncomfortable shiver, Sans attempted to swing an arm over the angel and draw him closer only to fall out of the booth seat with a thud.

 

“ow.”

 

Rubbing between his eyes where the nasal bone was raised slightly and grated against the ground, he'd managed to crawl out from under the table, only bumping into it once with his broad shoulders. The accompanying clatter gave him pause, enough to seek out the necklace that'd slid off. The moonstone of Liquid Sunshine had been thoroughly cracked, split in the middle. Wondering if it would be better off with the missing piece, he dug into his pocket just to find a fine powder.

 

“shit...” He muttered, feeling the sin once more lacing through his bones. He needed to figure out where Papyrus went, especially without his necklace. Fortunately, he didn't have to look long as he found Grillby at the bar, paused in the process of setting up shop reading something. Seeing Sans emerge from the booth, he silently held out the note.

 

“thanks grillbs,” he grunted, sitting down at the bar to read.

 

~

 

“Guardian Angel Papyrus, you stand before us now, sullied, and unrepentant.” Seraphim Toriel told her angelic audience sternly. Papyrus stood before her, gaze lowered respectfully, a flush of embarrassment showing through his cheekbones as the footage of the previous night played. His transgression was not a matter to be dealt with privately, but in the view of all angels under the Seraphim's guidance.“What do you have to say in your defense? God be praised with all of their wisdom and glory!”

 

“SERAPHIM TORIEL, I HAVE NO DEFENSE FOR FAILING MY HOLY MISSION, MERELY AN ARGUMENT FOR CHANGE. WE'VE SEEN MORE THAN A FEW ANGELS FALL, AND ALWAYS FOR THE REASON OF FRATERNIZING WITH DEMONS. HOWEVER! I HAVE REASON TO BELIEVE THAT DESPITE OUR PREVIOUS ASSUMPTIONS, DEMONS ARE NOT WHOLLY EVIL! THEY CAN BE GOOD, THEY CAN BE KIND,” Papyrus responded earnestly, but still dared not to raise his eyes. He was trained better than that, and as he would face his trial with dignity and serenity, so will he behave with courtesy and respect to his superiors. “ONE SAVED ME LAST NIGHT, AND HAD PROTECTED ME PREVIOUSLY.”

 

“We're well aware of that, Guardian Angel Papyrus.” the seraphim reminded him, her narrowed gaze locked on the angel with carefully controlled righteous fury coming off of her in heat waves. “We're also aware of your abandoning your duties and allowing yourself to be abducted by the same demon. These factors have already been considered, and do not outweigh the extremity of your transgression. You are to be stripped of your position, your heavenly protection, and your wings torn asunder.”

 

“PAPYR-” Undyne nearly screamed, but Alphys held her back, slapping a hand over her mouth.

 

“Undyne, t-this is as much a t-test for us as it was for P-papyrus! If we s-step in now, we'll fail,” Alphys hissed under her breath,hoping for the best. She couldn't restrain the archangel from acting up if she put her mind to it, but it seems her words had the intended effect, as Undyne clenched her fists and snapped her sharp teeth shut. Pale-faced, all she could do was hold herself back tensely and watch as Toriel approached another lost friend, unsheathing her holy blade and flames dancing all around them as the full power of her presence was unleashed.

 

“Papyrus, your punishment begins now. Praise God for their kindness and everlasting compassion.”

 

~

 

Sans _felt_ Papyrus's agonized screams rather than heard them, rushing outside far too late after reading the note with ice cold panic laced with genuine rage. He knew what the result of Papyrus's call for peace would be, if he'd only woke up sooner, he..!

 

With no time to finish that thought, he fixed his gaze to the sky, his magic wildly fluctuating in his skull at the sight of the shape dropping gracelessly from the heavens. There was no sign of slowing down in Papyrus's descent. At this rate, he would hit the ground at full force and dust on the spot. For all of his self professed cynicism, he found himself frantically wondering at the grand show of indifference being displayed here.

 

What happened to his wings?

 

Where's his friends? Family? Why won't anyone catch him?

 

Where's that goddamned compassion they're always preaching?

 

_Where's the fucking justice in this?_

 

His wings spread out, the gossamer blue membrane unseen in the morning light, and with a hard shove Sans threw himself into his shortcut. He exited miles closer in sync with his flight pattern, his wings displacing air with a deceptive ease as he flew up to collide with Papyrus at the full force of his fall, nearly jolted off course for a few seconds before he could stabilize them.

 

“papyrus!” Sans gasped, aghast at the gore in his arms.

 

Papyrus's white bones were scorched and singed, licked away by the cleansing fury of the angel that had assaulted him. His wings weren't just missing, they were hacked off with a dull blade from the looks of the cracked and chipped bone at the base of the wings, and the now fallen angel was hemorrhaging marrow with an alarming intensity. Sans's clothes were quickly turning red and heavy, yet he didn't feel any burning of heaven's wrath. Papyrus's defenses were completely stripped away.

 

“no no no, papyrus why did you go back?” Sans murmured with dismay. He shook himself of his sudden stabbing anguish and fought back cold flat shock. He had to get him help now, or Papyrus wouldn't make the transition into a fallen angel. He took his shortcut straight to the only person he knew survived the fall.

 

~

 

“Goddammit Sans,” Gaster swore as soon as he answered the door. Sans looking like he'd practically fallen into a vat of blood to retrieve the still creature cradled in his arms. “Do you listen to anything I tell you?”

 

“help now, lecture later.” Sans grunted tersely, pushing past his old mentor and took Papyrus's still body straight to Asgore. Asgore nodded slowly, as if he’d already known this would happen, and took Papyrus from his hold without another word. Sans couldn't unsee how small and crumbled he looked in Asgore's arms, acutely aware of how unlikely he would be of surviving. Gaster took his arm and pulled his former apprentice back while Asgore moved with sudden speed. Sans turned to shoot an anxious glare, but was cowed down by the faint purple glow in Gaster's eye socket.

 

“STAY.” He commanded.

 

Forced to stay out of Asgore's way, Sans settled for remaining in the hallway, pacing nervously even as Gaster growled, “Sit down, Sans. You're making me nervous.”

 

With nothing better to do, Sans kept his mind occupied, fixating on everything he'd seen in the last twenty four hours. The way Papyrus had defied common sense and stood before an angelic court. The brutal punishment that had taken place. The way the holy relic back in Grillby's bar melted away into a glittering powerless powder. He absorbed these events, and took it upon his black and twisted soul to hold heaven accountable for its unyielding condemnation, at some point radiating a dark aura with such intensity so that even Gaster slipped away cautiously.

 

“Sans.”

 

At the sound of Asgore's voice, Sans snapped back to the present with a demanding stare to the fallen seraphim, completely silent in his demand.

 

“He's stabilized, but won't wake up for a long time.” Asgore reported, as Sans strode past him purposefully. He followed, but allowed Sans to kneel at Papyrus's bedside. The sheets were bloody, and the bandaging was too, but the rate of marrow seeping out had at least trickled to a near halt. Papyrus seemed unnaturally pale, until Sans realized dully he couldn't see that heavenly aura that had commanded so much attention a few nights before. A... few nights? How had so much happened in so little time, he wondered briefly.

 

Asgore spoke once more, deep rumbling voice quiet but authoritative. “Once he does wake up, he'll need to be restored to full health, a process that will take longer than you or I might guess. Lower classes of angels do not normally survive this. You've done well in taking responsibility for your actions so far, but it comes with lasting consequences. You will need to protect him from the denizens of hell, indeed, the denizens of heaven as well.”

 

“he's the best part about heaven, y'know?” Sans uttered quietly, more to himself than Asgore. “heh, maybe the only 'good' thing about heaven even. you know what he wrote, before this happened? he wanted heaven and hell to come to a truce, or at least come to a peaceful ceasefire. they ripped him apart like animals.”

 

He carefully collected Papyrus's hand into his, noting that it wasn't covered in bandages like his severed wings or the expanse of his rib cage. He held his hand close to his mouth, eyes watching for any sign of discomfort or any response at all. The hand in his twitched briefly, almost clasping his before relaxing, and he pressed the hand to his teeth.

 

“i will protect him, asgore. from those slayer brats, from hell, from heaven... i'll destroy anyone who dares to touch papyrus.” His magic eye flashed blue-yellow ominously, “that's a promise.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that ends Fall! Though, this doesn't seem... entirely over, does it? Even I'm a little uncertain about that fact, but for the moment I have other projects begging to be exorcised from my mind! If you're particularly hooked, you can follow my tumblr for updates. I think I'm likely to come back to it at some point, so if that happens I'll stick it in a series with this set.  
> https://agraulisvanillae.tumblr.com/  
> HOWEVER! Who you should REALLY be following is Inayuri, as they're working on a comic based on Fall as we speak! The first completed page is right here:  
> http://inayuri.tumblr.com/post/154212900056/fall-chapter-1-looking-for-someone-heavenly

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a oneshot. It wasn't when I was done with it, and it doesn't help that like 2 and a half pages of this was STRAIGHT UP SANS PUNNING. DANG IT SANS!!! So this'll be updated in the next 2 weeks, likely on Mondays.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fall *SFW*](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8827147) by [Agraulis_vanillae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agraulis_vanillae/pseuds/Agraulis_vanillae)




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